


Fractured Light

by CuttlefishMistress



Category: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: Character Analysis, Drabbles, Gen, Headcanon, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7181789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuttlefishMistress/pseuds/CuttlefishMistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A loud cracking echoed through the room as a black glove plummeted into the surface of one of the mirrors. The shards that fell to the floor rang out like tiny bells, sweet and sharp.  Dimentio forced his eyes forward, ignoring the glimpse of a familiar face in the mirror’s fractured surface. </p><p>***</p><p>A shadow stood behind the figure, their eyes fixed upon the figure’s slumping shoulders. No words were spoken, none needed to be. After all their time together, it was second nature to them in reading the other’s silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgetting

**Author's Note:**

> Little old snippets of stuff that was originally going to be part of a larger fic that will never happen now... Also it has been a while since I've posted anything so here, enjoy some more melodramatic Dimentio headcanons.

Memories will all eventually fade away to time, as the world continue to endlessly turn around itself letting the past dissolved into the empty vastness of our existence. Time is a force us humans cannot stop, time will come, time will always come, to end everything and everybeing. Death is inevitable, forgetting is inevitable, but for the brief fleeting moment that we exist we light our hearts with the fires of passion, of despair and of hope. We live and we fight, we die and we will inevitably forget. For the brief spark of our existence we make memories worth forgetting, worth dissolving into the endless void of our existence.

***

Deep within the walls of castle Bleck a lone magician flouts about the halls. Dimentio was a patient person, years of practice and experience had taught him the value of that. He could wait hundreds of years for even the smallest gears of his plans to fall through, but that patience did not save him from boredom, and that was what was currently plaguing him, boredom.

He had already gone through the daily chores of stealing and reading Mimi’s diary, loosening the blots on O’Chucks’s training equipment, hiding all of Nastasia’s pens and misplacing just one single piece of her documents into another folder and of course dropping just the tiniest of hints towards Count Bleck about the secrets of his schemes. And like always they ended with the same predictable results.

Mimi made a quick fuss, but her embarrassment and frustration got the better of her and she rushed off to find a better hiding place. Dimentio missed the days when she would actually put in the effort to chase him through the halls, firing brilliant sharp rubies in his direction. O’Chucks remained as clueless as ever and merely boosted about how his strength was so impressive that he was making the equipment trembles at their knees, wherever those may be.  Nastasia provided a slightly more enjoyable reaction, but that was again short lived. She fumed and fussed and grew red in the face but her talents at keeping order made quick work of the little mess that Dimentio had made and soon she was up and running again, leaving Dimentio little time to enjoy the show.

Count Bleck on the other hand… was an interesting fellow, at least to mess around with. Dimentio in all honestly couldn’t stand the sight of him, but his services and cooperation were needed to bright forth the void, and so Dimentio would bear his hatred, plaster on his ever charming fake smile and obediently follow the Count’s useless orders.  Should the Count actually be true his words and create new worlds after these one’s destruction Dimentio could have been able to bear him a little better, but the Count was a pathetic man, so sorrowful and wallowing in his own patheticness that Dimentio wanted to gag upon his every stupid words. The clueless, deplorably, stupid fellow couldn’t even pull himself out of his own misery long enough to see the very blatant clues that Dimentio had been dropping. Of course it was a good thing that the Count was clueless to his true intentions, but it made for a very, VERY boring stay in his service. 

“You are always bored now a day.” A soft voice echoed through Dimentio’s ear.

His aimless wondering had led him into a room full of pit falls in the floor and hundreds of mirrors upon the walls. This was one of his rooms, one the traps that the Count had asked his minions to set up should anyone ever manage to infiltrate the castle.

“Has the obstacles of life finally ceased to excite you?”

Dimentio knew that voice well. He stayed frozen in place, eyes staring forward. It was the one voice that ever made him falter in anything, and it had been a long LONG while since he had last heard it.

“Have I upset you? Why won’t you look at me Demēn?” the voice was somber.

A chill ran down his skin, no one had called him that name in decades.

“Well, well, it seems that you have not abandoned me after all…” Dimentio’s voice did not sound as confident as he had wanted it to.

“Oh how can I? WHY would I?” the voice soft and sweet in tone.

“Not that I would let you after all, but it has been _so very long_ since you’ve last shown yourself to me. That _hurts_ you know, being ignored, it _hurts_ deep in _here_.” Dimentio placed a glove over his chest, the sarcasm in his voice evident but it was still strangely sincere.

“Is that why you won’t look at me? Well I am sincerely _sorry_ my dear Demēn, how can I show myself if _you_ did not wish to see me? I cannot do anything if _you_ don’t ask it of me? Isn’t that how it works _Demēn?_ ” the soft voice growing shaper with each passing word.

“I am _Dimentio_ , the master of Dimension, refer to me as such-”

“Oh, and _who_ gave you that name?! Oh great and powerful master of dimensions, so strong and so clever but too full of himself and too afraid to even look at his si-”

A loud cracking echoed through the room as a black glove plummeted into the surface of one of the mirrors. The shards that fell to the floor rang out like tiny bells, sweet and sharp.  Dimentio forced his eyes forward, ignoring the glimpse of a familiar face in the mirror’s fractured surface.

“You’re going to hurt yourself that way…” The voice was a soft whisper in his ear.

He let out a sharp huff.

“As if such tiny little shards could cause me any form of injury.” Dimentio’s voice was harsh and hollow.

With the snap of his fingers the mirror was repaired, the pieces neatly reformed back into the smooth glistening surface of the glass.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” the voice was somber, almost pleading.

“I have been doing no such thing, you’ve simply lost use to me. I do not waste time on useless things.” Dimentio sharply spat out.

“Like punching mirrors?”

Dimentio said nothing.

“I must be off. This room bores me now.”

Dimentio snapped his fingers and with a ripple he was transported out of the room. Keeping his lips in a tight line he pretend that person in the mirror gazing back at him did not look heartbroken.


	2. Master of Nothing

The end of the world had come and gone, and only one thing had been destroyed. The void pushed back into the folds of the universe, and the worlds went about their daily lives some grateful for their continue existence, some forgetting that the near destruction ever happened all together.

Forgetting was inevitable, like stones tumbling down the river, time chips away at the memories, eroding away each little grain until there is nothing left nothing but an empty slate, and another chance for the soul to be born and try again. The world had not been destroyed but many lives had been given second chances to live, second attempts to create memories worth forgetting. A single figure stood alone atop a beautiful white alter. Though the pillars had fallen and the marble cracked, it still stood radiating among the empty white world.

Among the wreckage laid the body of a pixel, its wings dull in color and crumbled.  The figure stood over it for a long while, just staring, his eyes dull. Not a single sound could be heard, the air was quite, not even a breeze or the bells from the earlier calamity it had suffered only hours before could be heard. Everything was utterly devoid of life.

Black gloved finger gently picked up the crumple body, it felt so fragile in his hands. Tenderly, the figure placed the crumple heap onto the marble table that still stood among the broken alter. A segment of the once colorful wings was missing, it would have been useless to search for it the mess, but the figure did so anyways. Another hour or so passed as the figure tirelessly lifted and tossed away slabs of stone and portions of pillars searching for one lone little broken wing fragment. At last upon tossing away a chunk of marble the figure spotted it, a single dull and very beaten fragment of a butterfly wing. He was careful in picking up, and gently placed it upon the table alongside the rest of its body.

It was strange. The figure had never been able to picture the body being so devoid of color and so broken and yet here it lay before his eyes, useless and tossed away. Stern cold eyes stared down at the heap, and gently with tender fingers he caressed the broken wings of the once colorful pixel. The body was long cold now.

A shadow stood behind the figure, their eyes fixed upon the figure’s slumping shoulders. No words were spoken, none needed to be. After all their time together, it was second nature to them in reading the other’s silence. Still the shadow felt the need to comfort the figure and so stretched out an arm. The figure’s head snapped up and the shadow’s hand stopped midair.

With a snap of his fingers the air quivered and torn a sliver in the space before him. The figure’s eyes were stern and focused strictly forward, and with a quick step the figure stepped forward into the rip. There was still so much to be done, so much left to prepare. No time to be forgetting, no time to waste on idle thoughts. Upon the shadow’s lips was a soft warm smile, with no hesitation they followed the figure into the void, they would follow him anywhere, after all they had promised to always be there for their beloved sibling.


End file.
